It feels like we were just roaming Newbury Street on a hot summer day in Boston. You were interning for a wedding planner, I was acting in LA visiting. I remember the boy who broke your heart that summer, the same one you were there for. We spent that entire weekend with him, as per your twenty something dream, eating famous clam chowders and watching Tom Brady play with the rest of the townies.
You were cool then, turning me on to beer at a Celtics game. You promised it was an acquired taste. We danced the night the Celtics won to that cover band playing classic American songs, buzzed and without a care in the world, celebrating just because.
And here we are, with all the time in between. You, in Chicago, living your best life with the love of your life whom you met while pursuing a master’s degree in an entirely unrelated career. And here I am, writing in New York City, flying out with him to help surprise you… and I’ve never seen you happier.
Cheers to life not always turning out the way we want it, darling. Every turn leading us to where we needed to be. Sometimes the guy upstairs really does have the better plan, and it may just be in the form of a 2+ carat cushion cut.